A few hours later…
The small tavern kitchen had been temporarily transformed into a makeshift lab. Copper kettles and wooden barrels lined the walls, while Marlow moved quickly between them, checking temperatures and adjusting ingredients with precise motions.
Sanemi stood nearby, arms crossed, his eyes sharp as he observed every step. Liora hovered at the edge of the room, clipboard in hand, already calculating costs and projected profit margins.
"Alright, Marlow," Sanemi said, leaning forward slightly. "We stick to the base first, barley, water, yeast. Keep it simple. Then the infusion."
Marlow nodded, dust still clinging to his coat. "Understood, Chairman. If this works, it'll be stable enough for mass production, and we can tweak flavor and stamina properties later."
The mixture hissed as it boiled, steam curling into the rafters. Sanemi inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma, slightly sweet, earthy, and surprisingly inviting.
"Add the iron-rich herbs now," Sanemi instructed. "Gently. We want energy, not bitterness."
Marlow carefully dropped the herbs into the barrel, stirring slowly. The liquid darkened slightly, taking on a rich amber hue.
Finally, Sanemi poured in the dried fruits, then added a touch of the alcohol infusion. The room filled with a scent both familiar and unique, like ale, but stronger, and somehow… promising.
He leaned closer to the barrel, inhaling deeply. "Yes… this is it."
Liora stepped forward, dipping a ladle into the mixture. She blew on it to cool, then tasted carefully. Her eyes widened, a quiet gasp escaping.
"This… this is incredible. It's smooth, rich, and the flavor carries a subtle kick of energy. Sailors will love it, and merchants will pay well for it."
Marlow finally allowed himself a grin. "Chairman… I think you've done it. The formula holds well. This could really work."
Sanemi's lips curved into a triumphant smile. He mentally brought out his system and whispered, "System, validate product, IRON BULL."
[Ding!] "Chairman, product successfully validated. [IRON BULL] registered. Production parameters set. Innovation Tier 1 progress confirmed. Profit potential: High."
Sanemi let out a soft chuckle. "Excellent. This is the beginning of the Wayne Group's dominance. We will be unstoppable once we scale."
Liora and Marlow exchanged glances, realizing just how much power their Chairman's vision could wield, even from something as simple as a fortified drink.
The first batch of Iron Bull was complete, but it wasn't over just yet. More planning and action had to be followed.
"Marlow, continue fine tuning it and see if you can discover any further flavors. Next, Liora get in contact with suppliers, find a good glass manufacturer. Finally, notify Jonas he needs to come back as soon as… Thursday." Sanemi ordered in one quick swoop and left in a hurry.
He had gained valuable momentum and Sanemi wouldn't stop.
…
Outside the tavern, Sanemi made his way back to his house with quick, purposeful steps. The moment he entered his office, the familiar scent of old parchment and ink greeted him. The walls were lined with shelves stuffed with books and stacked papers, records, contracts, and ledgers that marked the backbone of his growing enterprise.
Without wasting a second, he sat at his desk and began scribbling a letter. Once finished, he pressed his custom seal, the emblem of a bat, firmly onto the wax, leaving its mark.
"Old man… you must be desperate for money now, huh," Sanemi muttered under his breath, his tone carrying a quiet menace.
Stepping outside, he caught sight of a young boy lingering near the street. Sanemi crouched, handed him the sealed letter, and spoke firmly, "Take this to the Mayor's office. Quickly."
From his breast pocket, he pulled a few crisp bills and slipped them into the boy's hand.
The boy's eyes lit up with excitement as he clutched the money tight. Without another word, he dashed off down the street, the letter in hand.
Sanemi watched the boy disappear down the street, his hands sliding into his pockets. "Good. Let's see if the old man bites at the bait."
He returned home shortly after, dropping into the chair behind his wide office desk with a long, measured sigh. But there was no time to rest, his mind was already racing ahead.
The launch of Iron Bull was only the beginning. Once it caught fire with sailors and workers, demand would skyrocket. Production would need to be scaled up drastically. More employees, trained and loyal, would be required. Additional ships would have to be secured to handle larger deliveries, ensuring steady supply and multiplying profits.
The groundwork for expansion had to be laid now, before the wave hit.
If everything goes according to plan… the Wayne Group will explode in such momentum no one can drag it down before hurting themselves.
…
Seb pulled the small boat ashore, dragging it past a line of jagged rocks until it was concealed by brush. He adjusted his sword belt and exhaled slowly, his eyes sharpening.
Sloppy guards, rotten defenses, pirates like these weren't worth a second glance. He moved quickly and silently along the tree line until the wooden walls came into view. From within, he could hear raucous laughter, the sound of drunken mugs clashing, and the occasional shout of a captain.
Seb's eyes narrowed when he caught sight of a cage near the center of the camp. Inside, slouched against the bars, was a middle-aged man older than him. A wild grin was plastered across his face even though his cheek was bruised and one arm was chained above his head. His messy black hair fell over sharp eyes that flickered with amusement rather than despair.
"So that's him… Coyote," Seb muttered.
Even from this distance, Seb could tell, the man wasn't afraid. He was mocking the pirates holding him, laughing as if the whole situation was a joke.
"Oi! Keep it down in there!" a pirate snarled, slamming his boot against the cage.
Coyote just tilted his head, lips curling into a smile.
"Careful, old man. If you rattle the cage too much, I might bite."
The pirates laughed, but uneasily. Something about him put them on edge.
Seb's hand rested on his sword. No wonder the Chairman wants this guy. He's dangerous.